Day of Reckoning
One summer hot,
clear day,
It was time to deal with dirty laundry.
In silence,
with a countenance of stone,
unrevealing deep emotions,
things of necessity were done.
She hung bleached-white sheets
out on the line to dry,
then, turning to him,
her iron will broke,
storm clouds rose,
her eyes accused,
yet, all she could say was;
“Don’t leave.”
Copyright © Virginia Mitchell | Year Posted 2010
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